


5 times Geralt was jealous and 1 time Jaskier was

by Jaskiers_BrokenLute



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied/Referenced Sex, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion In A Dress, Jealous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealous Jaskier | Dandelion, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Neck Kissing, No Smut, Non-Consensual Touching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Singing, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Valdo marx - Freeform, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaskiers_BrokenLute/pseuds/Jaskiers_BrokenLute
Summary: Exactly what it says up there but with plot^
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 513





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic got away from me a bit. 
> 
> The non-con touching (which is very very minor and lasts about 1 sentence) is in #2 if you need to skip ,please do if you have to you wont miss anything essential to the story

They fell together slowly, it was obvious from the beginning that Jaskier was attracted to Geralt (he wasn't blind), and even Jaskier couldn't deny Jaskier's beauty, but neither of them had ever thought it was more than mutual aesthetic attraction. 

But then Jaskier's gaze lingered even when Geralt was at his worst, he'd brush his fingers against his skin even when it was paper white and drenched in blood.  
He'd smile at him with a look that made Geralt's stomach twist, he didn't deserve the way those eyes saw him. 

He was awed by Jaskier, he carried a sort of sun with him, glowing hot and bright, unafraid, taking exactly what he wants without thought of consequence, which wasn't always a good thing, but was always thrilling to watch.   
He lived every day as if he'd live forever, but not a day past tomorrow at the same time, and for some reason, he chose Geralt to spend those days with. 

The first real confession came while Jaskier was out of it, loopy with blood loss and laying on a bedroll that was usually Geralt's.

He was pale and weak but still watched Geralt like nothing could ever be wrong while he was there. 

"I love you, you know?" He said, running blood-soaked hands through Geralt's white hair, leaving trails of red behind. 

"I never thought I'd be able to truly love anybody, but you're not anybody Geralt. You've stolen every piece of me without even knowing and somehow I still love you," He warbled, words slurred by the weightlessness that flowed through him, but his eyes stayed strong, fixed on Geralt. If his witcher was the last sight he saw, well that wouldn't be half bad. 

There was hardly any option but to believe every word, and understand that there was no explanation for himself, the way Jaskier made him feel, other than that he felt the same, that he was Jaskier's and would be for as long as he was allowed. 

They'd talked it out two days later when Jaskier regained consciousness enough to be fully lucid. 

Geralt relayed what Jaskier had said, the words forever carved into the brightest part of his memory. They made him glow inside even now as he repeated them, no one should be able to love him, and yet here they are. 

Jaskier was mortified, stunk of fear for the first time since they'd began traveling together, it was something Geralt never wanted to cause again. 

"I'm sorry, I never meant to tell you and this doesn't have to change anything but I understand if this is what finally makes you want to leave," He'd rambled, knowing even if he'd tried to deny it Geralt would be able to see right through his lies, just like he'd always been able to. 

"No." The last words had pulled Geralt out of the hurt the rest of the spiel was causing. 

"No?" 

"I don't - me too, Jaskier." He managed, Jaskier froze. 

He stared at Geralt wide eyes for a few seconds, then he smiled, brightened up and laughed as he'd never known such elation.  
Geralt has never, and will never, see anything as beautiful. 

He threw himself at Geralt, pulling his body as close to the man he loved as possible, melting into the feeling of finally being loved back. 

"I love you," He whispered into Geralt's shoulder, where he'd rested his head. 

"You don't have to say it back, I know." 

And that was enough for Geralt to melt right back, clutching Jaskier to his chest and feeling he'd finally done something right, something to deserve Jaskier being his. 

******

It's been nearly a year of Jaskier seeming so much more beautiful every day, of Geralt, speaking with actions how much he loved Jaskier, and Jaskier showering Geralt in words and ballads and poems, desperately trying to convince Geralt of how much he loved him and would never need nor want anyone or anything else. 

Of course not wanting anyone else doesn't stop others from wanting him. 

Geralt had never thought himself the jealous type, but seeing people think they could have Jaskier the way he had him made something dark and ugly curl up inside of him, and it's just his luck that it happened all the time. 

1\. 

Jaskier never missed a chance to perform, whether it was singing a new ballad to Roach while Geralt set up camp, or being invited to royal banquets by nobles who sought out the famous bard. 

Most of the time it was in taverns or gatherings of people while they traveled, on occasion even in the circle of friendship. 

Sometimes, Geralt can still get annoyed by the performances, when he gets drunk, after a long day when Jaskier doesn't understand being quiet, and worst of all when he gives all of his attention to the patrons, saving none for Geralt himself. 

It's unfair, of course, he knows that Jaskier has to pander to the audience if he wants to give a quality performance and fill his coin purse, but Geralt would be lying if he said he didn't very much prefer the songs that would only ever reach his ears. 

Nights when Jaskier would sit on the opposite side of the fire, his facade dropped, voice deep and words utterly beautiful, the songs only for Geralt to hear.  
Jaskier would look at him through the flames while his fingers danced along with his lute, emotions that were reserved for these nights flooding through him and making Geralt fall in love with him all over again. 

Yes, those moments were infinitely preferable to Jaskier playing in pubs, people drinking him in as if they were deserving of him. 

Perhaps it was more appreciation that Geralt blew out of proportion, but the looks on some people's faces while Jaskier dances around, winking and smirking at them, made Geralt want to walk right up to the bard, take him in his arms and show everyone that Jaskier was very much taken. 

But he couldn't do that, he had to sit by and watch with a tankard in his clutch, his knuckles white as he caught sight of women swooning and men eyeing up what was his. 

"I may make enough to pay for rooms miles away, these people know true artistry when they hear it." He reached across the table and took Geralt's ale out of his hands, downing a good third of it in one go. 

"I could stay here for weeks," He smiled, a worked up and slightly buzzed blush on his face, his hair messy and sweaty, it was no wonder half the tavern was infatuated with him. 

He'd been performing for hours now, drinking in the attention these people were giving him, loving it nearly as much as Geralt hated it. 

"I think perhaps they're not only paying for your singing," He growled, eyeing the people who were impatiently staring at Jaskier's back. 

"What?" He turned around for a moment, meeting eyes with a few people who offered unsavory smiles and tips of hats. 

"Oh," He deflated "Maybe they appreciate good looks more than great art," 

He mumbled to himself, plopping down straight into Geralt's laps, his knees bracketing Geralt's thighs. 

The older man's hands wrapped around his waist, flat on his back to keep him steady and close. 

"Good job you have someone who appreciates both," He responded, pulling Jaskier flush against his chest, arms more firmly closed around him. 

Jaskier smiled wide, preening under the attention as if he hadn't ever been complimented in his life. Geralt smiled back, unable to deny the effect Jaskier's reaction caused. 

"Indeed," He smirked and wrapped his arms around Geralt's neck. 

Displays like this weren't always welcome everywhere, they have to be careful around who and where they were openly affectionate, but right now Geralt couldn't care less, ready to cut down anyone who even looked at them funny. 

Right now all that mattered was the weight of Jaskier against him, his full attention on Geralt once again instead everyone who'd been trying for it. 

Said people were now beginning to file out of the tavern or grumble to themselves about the waste of coin. 

"How about we go upstairs and I show you just how much I appreciate it?" He lowered his voice the way he knew would make Jaskier shiver, leaning in enough to nip at Jaskier's ear as he spoke. 

"God yes," He breathed, pressed his face into Geralt's neck with a desperate nod, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging gently. 

Geralt smirked and moved his hands from Jaskier's waist to the back of his thighs, picking him up easily. 

Jaskier gasped breathlessly always having an appreciation for Geralt's shows of strength, ready for another that would surely leave no doubt in people's minds that he belonged to his witcher. 

2\. 

The jealousy returned joined by anger far quicker than it usually did, the space between towns was often much larger than this. 

Jaskier was leaning with his elbows against the bar, awaiting his ordered drink while making idle conversation with the woman on his right. 

He had finished his performance just minutes ago, being paid heartily once again, the coin spent on food and board earned back instantly. 

Of course, with this came the attention of people who thought Jaskier's performing persona was an invitation to flirt and touch. 

Geralt wasn't quiet so tense this time around, their activities from earlier in the week still fresh in his mind, how Jaskier had breathed, screamed his name. The reddened nail marks down his back that were surely still present, and the hastily covered expanse of marks that he'd left on every inch that he could reach on his bard.  
If he looked closely he could see the edge of a particularly dark purple bruise sticking out from the high collar of his doublet. 

The woman Jaskier was talking to said her hasty goodbyes, being pulled away by another woman who had been hustling a group of men, now trying to make a quick leave before they realized. 

Jaskier laughed and waved them off, sighing as he happily sunk further into the bar. 

His relaxed state didn't last long however, a man who had been drinking alone turned the moment he saw Jaskier was by himself again, he left his mug of ale and stalked over to him, leaning against the bar beside Jaskier. 

"I watched your performance, it's hard to believe some people can resist you," He smirked, accentuating his point with a hand harshly grabbing the front of Jaskier's trousers. 

Jaskier jumped back with a pained gasp, putting his hands over himself so the man couldn't reach him again. 

The man just stepped closer, seemingly unaware, or not caring for the very obvious disinterest that hung in the air. 

Before he could reach out again, or speak for that matter, a large hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him away from Jaskier, only just gentle enough not to tear his shoulder from its socket. 

"Did your parents never teach you to keep your hands to yourself?" Geralt growled, taking pleasure from the way he could feel the man's bones beginning to grind together under his skin. 

"What's it to you witcher?" He spat the word, trying and failing to pull his hand from Geralt's, wincing when the grip only tightened. 

"The whore was practically asking for it," He spoke as if it were a reasonable excuse for groping a stranger. 

Geralt could practically feel the rage rising inside of him, his mind zeroing in on the man in his hold and thinking of all the possible, slow ways he could kill him.  
Before he could test out any of the ideas that had come into his mind there was a hand on his chest, Jaskier stood before him flashing a soft smile before his face fell into anger once more, directed at the man in Geralt's grip. 

"The whore was most certainly not asking for anything from you," He spoke, his voice something Geralt had never heard come from the bard, icy and dangerous, something no one would want to be on the receiving end of. 

Jaskier's hand flew away from Geralt's chest and curled into a fist, connecting with the man's face in a movement that was hardly visible in its speed and force. 

If it weren't for Geralt's death grip on the man's arm he surely would have fallen flat on his ass, instead, his head swung to the side with an audible crack of his nose, blood flowing down his face from the broken appendage. 

"Let him go, love, he's not worth the trouble," He spat, patting Geralt on the shoulder as he walked back towards the bar, swallowing down half of the goblet of wine he'd ordered. 

Geralt dropped the man, his mind now solely focused on what had just happened. 

He'd never seen Jaskier as anything but the damsel in distress, he'd never defended himself or Geralt in any way other than with words, this was new and very... interesting. 

"That was a good hit," He spoke, standing beside Jaskier while the man ran from the tavern. 

"I know," He winked, finishing off his drink and slamming it down onto the bar with a pointed look at the barmaid, silently asking for a re-fill. 

"Since when can you defend yourself?" 

"Excuse me, despite our history I'm not entirely dependent on you Geralt. There was a time before you darling," 

"Then why am I always the one saving your ass?" He asked, fanning annoyance but impressed behind the act. 

"Maybe I simply like being rescued by my big strong witcher." He puffed out his chest as he spoke, deepening his voice.  
Geralt rolled his eyes but smiled down at Jaskier, who'd just graciously accepted his second goblet of wine, carrying it away to the darkened table Geralt had been sitting at for the majority of the night. 

"Even with the sudden show of strength, are you okay?"

Jaskier sighs and puts the cup down on the table, sinking back into his seat. 

"Yes," He breathes, Geralt sitting down beside him. 

"I'm used to it, dealt with people far worse than him trust me," 

Geralt frowns, of course, Jaskier can take care of himself, but he shouldn't have to.  
He wants to be there, protect Jaskier from every unsavory encounter, people who think they're owed something based on the way Jaskier acted while he sang.  
More so he wanted people to have some shred of decency, a bit of common sense maybe, enough to see that Jaskier wasn't a prize to be won. 

"Geralt? I'm alright love," Geralt realized he'd been staring off at Jaskier for a minute too long, Jaskier leaning in, a comforting presence just like he's always been as if Geralt was the one that needed comforting. 

"I know," 

Jaskier smiled, leaning further into Geralt so he was resting against his chest.  
Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier instantly, holding him closer. 

"I love you," 

Geralt tightened his grip for a moment, answering without words as he always had, it was enough for Jaskier, more than enough considering Geralt actually loved him back.  
That would always be enough. 

3.

Of Jaskiers nearly endless amount of songs, quite a few of them are from before Geralt, even if he was still an up and coming bard at that point, the young age of eighteen when they met.   
He'd been writing since he could spell, and ever the poet, writing about all the people he met, the places he'd gone, everything spinning around in that young mind. 

Plenty of his songs are from his time at Oxenfurt, when he'd started perfecting his art, and becoming the person he is, or was, as he's ever-changing. 

Songs of history that he'd learned, a great many about the continent itself, sights he longed to see and places he wanted to travel to, his love for geography melting its way into his love of music and written words. 

These songs were some of his favourites to look back on, now that he's seen most of the places he wrote of seeing one day, nearly all of them just as beautiful as he'd hoped, some disappointing, but there's a story in there anyhow. 

Then, there were the songs of past lovers, flings, passing fancies, one night stands, unrequited longings, and what he'd thought was true heartbreak at the time. 

He fell in love with someone new nearly every week, it was much worse back then when he'd finally found people he fit in with, lovers of the arts, romantics, all beautiful. Well, most, Valdo Marx was there at the time so not everyone was lovely. 

Geralt silently despises these songs, hates how Jaskier can still inflict the same emotion into them that he must have felt as he wrote them. Describing other people's beauty as if they haven't grown and fallen for other people by now. 

His songs of longing are the ones Geralt hates the most when he hears how desperately Jaskier had loved these people, how he'd watch them when they were out of reach, think of them at night to feel comfort as he drifted off, and ache when he woke up in a cold bed. 

It was all too real, and while others were merely impressed with the bard's ability to make every song seem like reality, it made Geralt want to hunt these people down and keep them far away from Jaskier, even if logically he knew they already were. 

He couldn't help feeling this way when his love was singing of others, mind sent back into a time when they weren't together. 

"One more song dears, then I'm afraid I have to retire for the night," Jaskier spoke up, settling himself down on a stool to finish his set. 

He always saved emotional or personal songs for the end, when he'd captured peoples attention with crowd pleasers and could allow himself to sing something that actually held meaning, without getting booed off when no one recognized the tune. 

"Does she know who you are?  
Does she laugh, just to know what   
she has?" 

He started, his voice already changed from what it had been moments ago, deeper and audibly more sincere. It was a song that Geralt didn't recognize, which was rare with how often Jaskier composed or practiced in his company. That only meant this must be an old song, one that needed no practicing after being burnt into his memory with time. 

"Does she know not to talk   
about your past?  
Does she know when you're sad?"

The tavern grew quiet as the meaning and pain behind the song sunk in.   
Geralt couldn't help but wonder who would choose someone else over Jaskier, who could possibly make his bard hurt so much. It was clear he'd truly cared for this person, and as much as he would rather be able to sympathize with Jaskier, he can't help but be glad it didn't work out. 

"You don't like to be touched,   
let alone kissed.   
Does she know where your lips begin?"

This must be a song about another man, Geralt realized when he took notice of the pronouns, Jaskier wouldn't be torn up about someone simply preferring the same sex so it's unlikely that it's about a woman who chose another woman.   
Jaskier often spoke about his past with men, how often he fell for those who didn't fancy other men, he'd said it was a common occurrence but hurt each and every time. 

Somehow knowing this made hearing the song harder. 

"Does she know who you are?  
Do you laugh just to think  
what I lack?" 

Geralt couldn't help but think of all the times he'd told Jaskier all that he lacked, before he'd fallen for him and simply wanted him gone, it was safer away from him.   
He'd spent so long drilling it into his mind after that Jaskier was enough, had nothing to prove, no need to be better to try and please Geralt. 

Now, hearing him sing with such hurt in his voice, he feels the need to hold him close and reassure him of all that he's worth, how much he's wanted. Damn whoever didn't see that. 

"Do you know your lip shakes  
when you're mad?  
And do you notice when you're sad?

You don't like to be touched,   
let alone kissed.   
Does her love make your head spin?"

Silence rang out as the last chord reverberated off the walls, followed by a nearly deafening level of applause. 

Jaskier bowed and tucked his lute back into its case, along with the coins that had been, quite literally, tossed to him throughout the night. 

He stalked over to where Geralt was sat and slumped into the seat beside him with a heavy exhale. 

"Gods, I've never been this tired in my life." He huffed, leaning heavily against Geralt's shoulder. 

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him, hiding his fondness for the man unsuccessfully. 

"Shut up you know what I mean." He mumbled, letting his eyes slip shut as he made himself comfortable against Geralt, seemingly making the decision that the witcher would have to carry him to bed when he inevitably fell asleep against him. 

Not that he minded, he liked having Jaskier in his arms and it was still a bit staggering how blindly the bard trusts him. 

But before he falls asleep for the night; 

"Who was that song about?" 

Jaskier sat up and squinted at him as if he'd just said something completely absurd. 

"Really?" He asked with a lopsided half-smile. 

"Yes," 

"It's about you, Geralt." He answered as if it were obvious, absent-midedly, tracing patterns across Geralt's arm. 

"That doesn't make sense," 

"Well, it's not recent, love. Rather old actually." 

"When?" He knew he'd hurt Jaskier in his life, but he can't tell when this could be from, it's an unpleasant feeling to know there was so much he'd done to Jaskier without even realizing it.   
Probably too much to ever make right.

"A few weeks after Rinde, before the dragon hunt." 

"'She' is Yennefer?" 

It made sense now, that Jaskier would be heartbroken after he met Yennefer. He'd practically thrown Jaskier away then just as he'd done on the mountain, just with fewer words.   
Jaskier had been there, in love with him, always there for him, then he met Yennefer and gave everything to her without even realizing that all he truly needed had been there the entire time. 

The song is now just another painful reminder that he'd put Jaskier through so much, and yet he stayed, following behind the man he thought could never love him back, putting his hurt into songs while Geralt slept. 

"Yes, and he would be you. How observant you are." Jaskier teased, reclaiming his position against Geralt's side, this time grabbing the witcher's hand and working it around his waist. 

There was a lot that Geralt wanted to say, 'I'm sorry' high on the list, but Jaskier would only shush him and tell him not to apologize. He was always too good, never allowed Geralt to feel guilt where he didn't think it was warranted. 

Instead, he tightened his grip around Jaskier and pulled him onto his lap, letting his head lay against his shoulder and his body lean against his front. 

"I have you now Geralt, let's not dwell on the past" He scolded, but stayed silent other than that, letting himself relax into Geralt's hold. 

"I have you," He corrected, rubbing his hand up and down Jaskier back in a way he knew would send Jaskier to sleep easier. 

Gods, he's lucky to have him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 & 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has not been edited i'm sorry for any mistakes, enjoyyy

4\. 

"Shit, Geralt hide me." Jaskier jumped down from the table he'd been standing on and behind Geralt. 

"Another past love affair?" He rolled his eyes but shifted so Jaskier was hidden from view. 

"Far from it, you see the whoremonger who just walked in? The one in fashion that's been out for longer than you've been hunting monsters?"

Geralt smirked and scanned the room, eyes falling on the person almost instantly. He was dressed much nicer than the rest of the people that had come in, he clearly came from money and by the way he carried himself he knew this and raised his own self-worth above the rest of the people in the room. 

"That's Valdo Marx," He spit out the name like it left a sour taste on his tongue, the name instantly connected in Geralt's mind to Jaskier's djinn wishes. 

"The man you tried to murder?" 

"I hardly tried to murder him, and besides he's perfectly well isn't he?" He defended, gesturing to the very alive man across the tavern. 

Valdo must have seen the hand move from behind Geralt, as he excused himself from the conversation he was in and started towards the witcher. 

"Fuck," 

"Julian, I heard you were playing here." He sat down across from Geralt, leaning to the side to speak to the man knelt on the floor. 

"Ah, Valdo I didn't see you there darling," He stood, dusting the dirt off of his knees and taking his seat next to Geralt. 

"Clearly," 

"What brings you this far from Cidaris?" It sounded nice enough, but Geralt could hear the tightness in his tone that gave way to the fact that he was very politely saying, 'what the fuck are you doing here?'

"Well I heard you were traveling north and, well it's been such a long time I figured we should catch up."

"You traveled all the way out here to catch up?" 

"Don't act like it's so hard to believe Julian. Don't tell me you've forgotten about our, time together, at Oxenfurt." He accentuated 'time together' with a wink and a smirk that made Geralt's stomach twist and Jaskier's cheeks flush. 

"How could I forget? I still have nightmares." He shuttered dramatically, earning a nearly invisible twitch of Geralt's lips. 

"Wouldn't be the first time you screamed my name in bed," 

The three of them fell into a silence, Geralt internally wishing once again that the wishes that day really had been Jaskier's. 

The silence broke when Jaskier broke out laughing, a shock to Geralt, and as it would seem to Valdo as well, who looked stunned for a moment before he put himself together and laughed along.   
Gods, even his laugh was smug. 

"You truly haven't changed Marx," He shook his head, smiling fondly at Valdo in a way that returned the fire to Geralt's belly. 

Does he not realize that he's being flirted with? Why would he be looking at him like that unless he knew and, didn't care? But he's with Geralt, so of course, he would care if someone else was flirting with him. And if not he'd at least have the decency not to allow it to happen directly in front of him. 

"Is that a good thing Julian?"

Why is he calling Jaskier that?

"Of course not," He winked, stepping away from the table, running his finger along Geralt's shoulder as he passed. 

"So, you're the witcher he sings of then." Valdo crossed his arms as he eyed Geralt up and down, assessing him. 

He grunted, keeping his eye on Jaskier as the younger man ordered a drink and leaned against the bar as he waited. 

"How did you get him to follow you around then? Do you pay him?" 

"No," He answered simply, using all of his energy to stop from shouting, it was fine when people talked about him, their opinions were there own and would never change, he was used to it by now, but he hated people assume Jaskier was with him against his own free will. 

"Are you fucking him?" 

Geralt turned to him with a look that would send any other human out the door within a matter of seconds, instead Valdo raised his eyebrow, impatiently awaiting his answer as if it were a perfectly normal question. 

"Yes, and just to clear things up, he's never shouted your name since. He usually can't speak at all when we're done actually,"

He hid a smirk behind his tankard as he watched Valdo's eyes widen, clearly not expecting that answer. 

"That explains why he's still with you then, a good fuck and good business."

Before Geralt could retaliate Jaskier returned to the table, drink in hand. 

"So, you wanted to catch up then Marx?"

"Yes, I heard your ballads all the way back in Cidaris, figured you were doing well for yourself if your songs are traveling so far. It was hard to believe, so I figured I'd come to see for myself."

"What's so hard to believe about my songs being adored all over the continent? Other than it taking so damn long," He mumbled as he took a long drink of ale. 

"I just figured you be booed out of taverns all your life," He shrugged. 

"Did you? Geralt do you remember the last time we heard a Valdo Marx ballad on our travels?" 

Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier's waist and pressed him up against his side,   
"No," He answered, his lips nearly grazing his ear at the proximity. 

"Oh, that's odd, isn't it? No matter, how has singing in the same court all your life been? Bored yet?" 

"Quite the opposite actually, I know you wouldn't understand the same people being able to stand your presence for more than a week at a time so I won't boggle you with details, but it's been well, I'm living rather comfortably." 

Geralt's hands tightened into fists, even if Jaskier seemed unaffected by the casual insults, Geralt could hardly stand to hear them. 

"Perhaps they're keeping you there to spare the rest of the continent your squealing," 

"Squealing?" He asked indignantly "Well perhaps the only reason people put up with your pandering is to keep their heads, what with a guard dog at your side all this time, sacrificing their ears for their lives," 

"Perhaps you'd do well to follow their lead," Geralt growled, bearing his teeth to the man, looking more beast than man. 

"Geralt, we're only teasing," He took Geralt's hand underneath the table. He stood down begrudgingly, pulling Jaskier closer, nearly onto his lap and leaning down to bury his head into the crook of Jaskier's shoulder. 

"You've got him on a short leash haven't you," 

"Of course not, he does as he pleases and ah- Geralt!" 

Geralt bit down on Jaskier's neck, running his tongue over the irritated skin before he pulled away, enjoying the way the bard's face immediately lit up with a light pink blush. 

Geralt shrugged and turned his head away from him, Jaskier huffed and pulled his collar up over the growing mark. 

"I'm sorry, where were we?" 

If Jaskier was still returning to his conversation Geralt clearly hadn't done a good enough job, he thought. He could smell the beginnings of arousal coming from him but it clearly wasn't enough to be given Jaskier's full attention. 

A few minutes into their conversation, which Geralt had tuned out lest he hear the 'jokes' Valdo made about his bard and lose his temper, he removed his hand from Jaskier's and placed it on his thigh.

Jaskier ignored the action completely, talking through the shift of positions and successfully irritating Geralt even more. 

He upped his efforts, raising his hand until his pinky was touching the crease between Jaskier's leg and body, giving a light squeeze that made Jaskier jump in his seat. 

The bard put his hand over top of Geralt's gently trying to push it down, away from the growing interest in his trousers. 

In retaliation he squeezed harder, rubbing circles into his inner thighs (which Geralt have discovered very early on were highly sensitive and one of his favourite places to leave marks), reveling in the hitch in Jaskier's breath. 

It only took a few more minutes of bringing his hand ever closer for Jaskier to excuse himself from the table and pull Geralt away with him, not turning around until he's stomped his way up the stairs and into their room. 

"You're a menace," He grabbed Geralt's neck and pulled him into a hurried kiss, it was mostly tongue and teeth, no real thought into the movement, only urgency and need. Exactly what Geralt had hoped for. 

He shoved Jaskier against the wall, pulling away to attach his mouth to Jaskier's neck, kissing over the blooming bruise he'd put there earlier. 

"Gods Geralt, I should run into that scoundrel more often if this is your reaction," He panted, hands tangled into Geralt's hair. 

"Remind me not to take contracts near Cidaris anymore," He responded. 

"Noted," Jaskier breathed, tugging Geralt back up by his hair for another heated kiss, working on the buttons of Geralt's shirt. 

Geralt batted his hands away, pressing Jaskier's hands above his head. 

"Don't move," He pressed a quick kiss to Jaskier's lips and dropped to his knees

"Oh, sweet melitele,"

5\. 

The next time Jaskier was the center of attention was at a wedding that Jaskier had been hired to play at.

Geralt had been dragged along, even though he knew he would attend the second the invitation had arrived and Jaskier lit up with excitement.

"People are finally realizing that there is not better bard in the land, especially for a royal wedding, oh how romantic Geralt! I have so many new ballads I can play that would be perfect, I have always told you-" He'd gone on and on for longer than any human should be able to talk without pause, and Geralt had listened the entire time, "Hmm" ing whenever Jaskier would look up to check he was still listening, always smiling when he realized he was as if he'd expected Geralt to ignore him even after all this time.

After his spiel about true love, the perfect songs to sing, chords that accompanied romantic ballads perfectly, and so much more than Geralt couldn't even begin to understand, he's sung four songs that had already existed in his notebook and one that he'd only just wrote now after re-reading the invitation and modeling it after the information that it gave about the couple.

It was impressive as ever when he wrote something off the top of his head with nothing but a few lines of inspiration, always coming up with something beautiful on the first try.

"Needs some work," He'd shrugged and packed away his lute, writing down the words he'd just tied together to clean it up.

Geralt loved watching him compose, he'd go quiet, occasionally humming to himself or singing a few lines with different words in certain places, sticking his tongue just out of his lips as he focused on his task.

He looked cute like this.

He also looked cute now, his doublet unbuttoned just enough to be on the verge of too much for a royal gathering, his hair askew from his performance as the night got less romantic and more celebratory.

He'd since put his lute away and was now dancing with the maid of honor.   
His nobility shone through in times like these, in settings of what his past held and surrounded by people he must have been familiar with back then.

Dancing with professionalism clear in his graceful movements and confident air.

The woman spun under her arm with a loud laugh, Jaskier smiling at her as she came back from the movement, arms back into position automatically, it was clear she was also trained in the art of dancing, the two of them making a perfect show of their matched skills.

Geralt knew it was silly to think, but they looked good together, anyone who saw them like this would agree. They worked around each other's movements like they'd done it a million times before and not just this once.

The common sense in him knew it was simply born of their training, that anyone who knew how to dance as well would be able to work around any partner, but he couldn't help the thought that Jaskier would be better off with someone more like her.

Someone that could laugh with him, hold conversations with him and relate with stories he'd tell and things that he loved. Someone with who he could dance.

The song ended, Jaskier dipping the woman down and back up as a sort of finale for their dance, the movement pulling her so she was chest to chest with him, both of them breathing heavily, worn from the dance.

Geralt's breath caught when she leaned forward and connected their lips, her eyes closing as she pulled him closer by his neck.

He could see Jaskier's eyes still open, his hands pulling away from around her waist quickly, but he turned away before he shoved her off, spluttering an apology as he retreated from the dance floor.

Geralt stormed out of the hall, fighting against the part of him that was shouting to turn back, that Jaskier would never deliberately hurt him especially not like this.   
Even knowing this couldn't stop the hurt, he knew one day Jaskier would leave, would be tired of the life that a witcher led, fed up with being the only one that could openly show his affection, practically holding up their relationship himself.

It would be better if he left now and let Jaskier realize it before he felt trapped to stay with Geralt.

"Geralt! Wait!" He could hear Jaskier running after him and pushed on, throwing open the doors and starting towards the stables.

"This isn't fair Geralt, hear me out!" He ran in front of Roach before Geralt could mount her, he huffed and turned towards Jaskier.

"I didn't kiss her Geralt, do you really believe I'd do that?" His voice was pleading, close to breaking and it hurt Geralt more than he'd like to admit. It wasn't fair to Jaskier, he knew it wasn't, but it would be better for him in the future.

"It didn't look like you did much to fight it," He growled, going against every part of himself.

"Really?" He scoffed, "Geralt please, I love you, more than anything in this world. I love you more than I could ever or will ever love another person, more than music, more than myself, more than anything, can't you see that?"

"If you want to leave I won't stop you, but believe me that I would never love anyone but you," He deflated, dropping his arms to his sides as he finished talking, his eyes glassy and hurt.

Geralt never believed in the breaking of hearts, but seeing Jaskier like this, hearing how he loved him and how easily he'd give Geralt whatever he wanted at his own expense, he could understand.

"I'm sorry," He breathed, stepping out of the stable and towards Jaskier, lifted his head with a finger under his chin.

"I saw you with her and I just, you'd be better here Jaskier,"

"I'm better with you," He leaned into Geralt's hand, eye to eye with him to press his point.

"You know that isn't true."

"Fine, we don't have a life fit for a king but do you think that's what I want? After all this time you don't know a thing about me, my love, if this is the life I wanted I would have it by now, I never would have left home. If I wanted anything but you I would be long gone by now. You're stuck with me Geralt, forever." He smiled, running his hand into Geralt's hair, so gentle and loving that it made him ache.

"I love you,"

Jaskier's eyes widened and he let out a sound that could almost be a laugh, but came out more like a sob as the glassiness in his eyes turned into tears.

"I love you too," He fell into Geralt, wrapping his arms as tight as they'd go around his shoulders, burying his head in his neck.

"I love you," He repeated, now that he'd said it once it felt right, he knew he would only ever say it for Jaskier at that moment, when Jaskier melted with the words, crying into his shoulder.

"I know,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +1 coming soon, I was going to put it in here but I wasnt happy with how it turned out so once I re-write it it'll be up


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was actually waiting for this chapter I am so sorry that it took this long, i could never get it to turn out how I wanted, its not my best work but its finally finished so I hope you enjoy Jealous Jaskier.

"Good news Geralt dear, the two of us are about to come into a rather generous sum money,"  
Jaskier strolled into their room with a letter in hand. 

"We have been invited to yet another name day ceremony, nobles always pay handsomely, I would know," He winked, handing the letter over to Geralt. 

"You mean you were invited and I'm being forced along with you?" 

"First of all force is a very strong word, and second both of us were invited. Everyone loves when the hero of the story is there in the flesh! Now come on we have to get you something to go in other than those rags you call clothes,"

"Why should I go?"

"Because I asked you nicely?" He asked, a coy smile on his face.

Geralt huffed and rolled his eyes, having known since Jaskier mentioned it that he was going to be attending the ceremony. 

"Or," Jaskier started, approaching Geralt and sitting himself down on his lap, legs straddling Geralt's thighs.   
"I could thank you, not very nicely, when we get back." 

"Why wait?" He growled, rolling over so Jaskier was under him. The bard laughed and looped his arms around Geralt's neck.

"Why indeed, witcher?"

******

"You expect me to wear this all night?" Geralt asked with a pained look on his face, the tight blue doublet and matching trousers Jaskier had picked for him a far cry from what he was used to wearing. 

"You're not the one who has to walk around with bloody beard burn in his, unsavoury places," He mumbled, pulling his trousers away from his irritated skin for the third time in the past hour. 

"Are you complaining?" 

"Just wear the fucking outfit," 

Geralt smirked and looked himself over in the mirror once more, accepting his fate for the night.   
He caught sight of the wrapped package in Jaskier's hand,

"I thought you already had an outfit you were wearing," He said, gesturing to the package.

"I do, this is just for me." 

He raised an eyebrow at him, Jaskier usually showed off his new outfits to Geralt as soon as he got them, he's never hidden a chance to have the witcher's undivided attention.   
Jaskier just smiled back at him before walking off to find the shop owner, the two of them already at risk of being late to the ceremony. 

Of course, Jaskier couldn't let his name be tarnished in such a way so he paid the tailer and rushed Geralt out of the shop, mounting Roach before the witcher had a chance to argue. 

"We've got to be there before dark, stop staring at me like that," 

Geralt crossed his arms, it still baffled him, even after all this time, how Jaskier took charge of the witcher as if he were an ordinary person. In an odd way, it proved to him how much Jaskier truly did love him. 

He didn't want to jeopardize that love by making Jaskier late for the ceremony so he mounted Roach behind him and took the reins, leading them towards the castle the invitation had been sent from, smiling to himself each time Jaskier shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, urging Roach to go just fast enough to have Jaskier glaring at him when they dismounted out side of the noble's home. 

"If I'm not walking properly in there I'll stab you with your own sword," He threatened, poking Geralt in his chest as he addressed him. 

"I'm terrified," He replied in his signature monotone. Jaskier rolled his eyes and grabbed the witcher's hand, pulling him to the door. 

"Am I expected to do anything?" 

"Just sit there and look pretty," Jaskier answered, turning to adjust the folds in Geralt's outfit as well as fixing his hair where it had been messed upon Roach. 

"Shouldn't be too hard," 

As it would turn out, Jaskier was right and people seemed to notice. 

Jaskier had introduced himself and Geralt at the beginning of the evening before he began to play quiet background music, waiting for the festivities to really take off before he started singing. 

Geralt became the center of attention, much to both his own and Jaskier's dismay. If it weren't for formalities Jaskier would have stepped up immediately into singing anything loud or bawdy enough to get the eyes all over Geralt on him, mostly for the witcher's sake but partially because he was the one performing and was meant to have the attention of the room. 

But as the scene unfolded there was nothing he could do but watch and hope their fascination with the witcher would run dry by the time the evening picked up. 

He hated to think how uncomfortable Geralt was feeling being gawked and flirted at when he didn't want to be here in the first place. 

****

Geralt sat with a smirk on his face, speaking with three women who had approached him a few minutes ago, asking if he was actually the witcher from the songs. 

He'd have said no or simply ignored them usually, but he caught sight of Jaskier through the group of women, his eyes were glaring daggers into their backs, his shoulders tensed as he watched them grow closer to Geralt.   
He looked the way he made Geralt feel more often than not, it was refreshing in a way, to be on this end of it, the subject of the jealousy. 

His smile grew on his face as the thought came over him, he could have a lot of fun like this, and if he was going to be made to sit through hours of a stuck-up prick party, it was really the least he could do. 

"I thought you'd be more, rough-looking, mutant like I guess," The blonde woman closest to him said while he looked him up and down for what felt like the millionth time.   
"But you're actually rather handsome," 

"You're not so bad yourself," He answered back, internally wincing at the sentence since she was, to put it simply, not his type. But watching Jaskier get more and more riled up as he realized Geralt wasn't sending them away was satisfying enough to suffer through the horrible flirting and flattery. 

From across the hall, Jaskier was fuming, he knew that look on Geralt's smug face. That stupid half-smirk that was so outrageously breathtaking in a way it had no right to be. He was flirting with those women, right in front of Jaskier!

So, he thought he could have his way with Jaskier before they show up then go through the rest of the crowd when they got there? Not on his watch. 

Of course, he knew that Geralt would never actually go with any of them or do anything beyond sweet-talking them, but that was enough to have Jaskier on edge. Geralt didn't flirt, he barely flirted with Jaskier before or after they got together, it just wasn't something he did.   
Why now? He couldn't truly be that bored, right? 

He should have plenty to look at right here! 

Jaskier groaned internally and stepped off the small platform stage he'd been on and into the middle of the dining hall where the guests were just finishing their third course. 

"Ladies and Gentleman, now that the evening has truly begun I'd like to start introducing a few, more entertaining songs for you lovely folk, and if there's something you'd like to hear don't be afraid to shout it out at me." He winked to the crowd as hey applauded, straightening his spine and adjusting his grip on his lute. 

If Geralt wasn't going to appreciate what he had Jaskier would simply have to gain his attention in other ways. 

He started with a song he'd written for Geralt after they made their relationship official, it's slow and full of meaning that people wouldn't notice. It was written so that only he and Geralt could appreciate it for what it was. Jaskier hoped that hearing it would make Geralt feel bad and he'd realize that the person he's in love with is right.here.watching.him while he flirts shamelessly with other people. Honestly, the nerve of him. 

Walking around the room, distributing his attention, he played how he always did, only looking to see if his half-cocked idea had worked that way he hoped it would, but he was only met with Geralt surrounded by another woman and a man now. 

He set his jaw and spun around, searching his mind for other songs that he could use to get the witcher's attention, he doubted the idiot could even hear him beyond his, oh so interesting companies chatter, but he would try none the less. 

Jaskier began playing, yet another song that he'd written either about or for Geralt, as he sat in the corner feeling a little more self-satisfied each time the song ended and Jaskier began fuming, even more, when Geralt hadn't even looked at him all evening. 

Underneath his satisfaction he did feel a bit bad, Jaskier was clearly trying his best to gain Geralt's attention, it was almost touching, but not nearly touching enough to get him to stop. Jaskier was riling up beautifully, his jaw tensing, fingers flexing, eyebrows coming together in a frankly ridiculous scowl, it was hard for Geralt to not let his attention slip off his conversation and laugh at the state he'd worked Jaskier into. 

"So, where are you going after this?" One of the bolder people asked him. Geralt was barely focused on the growing crowd around him, couldn't name a single one even though they'd all introduced themselves. 

"Where ever the bard goes," He answered, he'd stopped actually flirting a while ago, figuring Jaskier couldn't hear him either way so as long as he kept his face looking a certain way he could casually talk to these people with the same, desired effect on Jaskier. 

"The one singing?" She asked, half of the people turning over their shoulders to see who she was talking about. 

"He just left," The man said before Geralt could answer. 

"What?" He stood up and looked around, he thought Jaskier would know he wasn't seriously interested in any of these people. He felt a stab of guilt as he scanned the hall and saw no sign of Jaskier. 

"Yes, upstairs with the ma'dam." He spoke up again, referring to the noblewoman whose name day they were here celebrating. 

"Hmm," Must be some weird sort of pay-back, he'd disappear with a woman for a while then return to piss off Geralt. That was, if Jaskier did, in fact, know Geralt was only messing with him. If he didn't then,

"Fuck," He began pushing past the crowd, a few people had grabbed his sleeve or rested their hand on his shoulder with scattered sorry looks or, 'he doesn't deserve you anyway'. He'd have turned around and argued the point if he weren't frozen in place where he was just outside the middle of the hall. 

Jaskier was walking down the stairs with the ma'dam on his arm, both of them smiling at each other while they made there way down. They were also both wearing gowns that dragged elegantly behind them on the stairs. 

Jaskier's was a simple white, matched with gloves, stockings, and heeled shoes. 

Geralt's mouth went dry as he watched the way the dressed hugged Jaskier's figure, making his waist look slimmer and his shoulders broader, the perfect balance between feminine and masculine. 

The worst and best part was his face, there was dark kohl dusted on his eyelids, a subtle pink pigment colouring his cheek and his lips were painted a dark red. 

Jaskier met his eyes as he reached the bottom of the stairs, turning away a second later while Geralt couldn't tear his eyes away even if he wanted to. Jaskier was always gorgeous but something about seeing him dressed like this made Geralt realize this face all over again, he wanted nothing more than to smudge that lip paint and see that dress off of him. 

The look was clearly put together by the ma'dam, he was turned to Jaskier, pulling the sleeves up on his dress and pointing out where some paint had made it onto his teeth, smiling brightly when he'd wiped it off with his tongue, a move that Geralt tracked closely, his fists tightening as it sent a wave of heat through him. 

The hall was quiet as they watched the two take seats at the high table, Jaskier beside the Ma'adam. 

Geralt knew he wasn't going to be allowed to interrupt the dinner and pull Jaskier away, and he must look enough like a fool for standing here gawking this long, so he cleared his throat and somehow turned away from the tantalizing sight to reclaim his seat, waving off the people who were still surrounding him, wanting a clear view of Jaskier. 

Jaskier smirked and spared a glance at Geralt, the witcher sitting incredibly tense and staring at Jaskier as if he'd disappear the second he removed his eyes from him. Just as it should be, he thought, looking over his outfit once more. The ma'dame had been more than happy to help once he'd explained the situation to her, dragging him upstairs and applying a beautiful layer of makeup onto his face. He'd bought the dress earlier and had no time to bring it back to the inn before they came here, it was supposed to be for a special occasion, but this seemed special enough to slip it on. 

She'd whistled and clapped when he revealed the final look, making him spin in place a few times to show off the entire outfit. He felt amazing, even more so when he saw Geralt still as a statue, practically drooling at the sight of him. But he'd feigned indifference and quickly sat with the nobles, far from where Geralt could touch him. 

As the night went on it got harder and harder to sit where he was, with Geralt's wanting eyes boring into him, the silk of the dress pressing against his skin and the thought of Geralt pressing him against a wall, or a bed, or anything for that matter playing over and over in his mind, needless to say, he was growing restless. 

He leaned over and whispered to the ma'dam, Ada, that he was going to excuse himself for the night. 

"Good luck," She whispered back, squeezing his arm with a bright smile. 

Geralt watched as Jaskier finally got up from his seat, making his way in his direction. He inhaled a deep breath and tried to seem nonchalant while his body felt like it was on fire just from the sight of him. 

"Geralt," He greeted, nervously spinning the skirt of the dress in his gloved hands. 

"Jaskier," He croaked through his dry throat, staring wide-eyed up at Jaskier. 

"Care to take me out of here?" 

Geralt stood up faster than Jaskier has ever seen him move, grabbing Jaskier under his knees and around his back, sweeping him up and started for the door before Jaskier could protest. 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around Geralt's neck, resting his head on his shoulder,   
they were in for a long, wonderful night.

**Author's Note:**

> Next part coming soon, hope you liked it and stick around for the rest.


End file.
